


Late for Dinner

by somanyofthekids



Series: Fauntlings [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyofthekids/pseuds/somanyofthekids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt "things you said that I wasn't meant to hear"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late for Dinner

Bilbo was late for dinner. 

Bilbo, as a rule, was never late for dinner. The few times Thorin had been late for dinner, Bilbo had treated him to a silent meal with a waterfall of words afterwards. Words about how _It’s disrespectful to the cook_  and  _Dinner should be spent with your husband_  and  _In case you lost track, I am the husband you are supposed to be spending dinner with._

So when Bilbo was late to dinner, Thorin was mostly just looking forward to teasing him about How The Mighty Have Fallen. However, as time for the meal completely passed and turned into the time Bilbo would have been preparing a pre-bedtime snack, Thorin began to worry. 

Of course his first instinct was to call out the guards in order to scour the mountain for his consort, but the decades of marriage to his hobbit had taught him that that might be an overreaction. Instead, he set out by himself to check a few suggestible spots. 

First he checked the library, supposing he might have fallen asleep while reading. Then he checked the gardens. Perhaps there was some kind of night blooming plant that needed special care? When that turned up empty, he went back to their quarters to be sure he hadn’t come back while Thorin had been gone, but they too were free from hobbits. 

Thorin was truly agitated now.  _The kitchens,_ he thought.  _And if he’s not in the kitchens, then overreaction be damned._

He sped his way down to the kitchens that Bombur had ruled since the reclamation of Erebor. He burst through the first door, eyes scanning the empty room. The knot in his chest tightened and he was just ready to sprint out to the nearest guard, when he heard it. 

“I can’t recommend this, old friend.”

Was that Gandalf? What was he doing here? Why hadn’t he come to see Thorin?

“So you’ve said,” bit out another familiar voice.

Thorin sighed with relief. Of course Bilbo was in the kitchens. He should have checked here first, honestly. Thorin started to move towards the pantry that contained the voices he was hearing, but paused when he heard his name. 

“Thorin has a mountain to care for. He’s a good king, Erebor can’t lose him,” the irritated tone of Bilbo’s voice continued. “And besides, his two hundred years have already seen enough hell. I can’t ask him to follow somewhere that is  _literally_  called Mount Doom, just because his half-wit husband picked up a ring which happens to be the root of all evil-” the words choked off at the end. 

Thorin stood stunned. 

Gandalf’s gentle voice broke the silence. “Fili is more than capable of taking over for Thorin, especially with the wisdom of his mother and the energy of his brother by his side. And… I think your husband would find living without you to be a far greater trial than following you into Mordor.”

Bilbo’s magic ring. The one he mainly used for hiding so he could jump out and scare the flame out of Thorin; he was taking it to Mordor. 

Mordor. 

 _“Bilbo,”_  Thorin whispered. 

There was silence from the pantry before Gandalf and Bilbo both slowly came around the corner and into the kitchen. They stared at each other for a moment. 

“You were late for dinner.” It was all Thorin could think to say. 

Bilbo’s lip trembled and he bit it. 

“Dinner should be spent with your husband,” Thorin’s voice wavered. “If you go to Mordor without me, you’ll miss a lot of dinners. It would be quite rude of you, really.”

Bilbo took in a great shaking breath. 

“Well. I can’t be such a poor example for my poor manner-less dwarf, can I?”

There were discussions to have, notes to write, bags to pack, and secret exits to take, but for the next moment, Thorin and Bilbo clung to each other. Whatever came next, at least they would be having dinner together. 


End file.
